Museum Monday 2026/31

 

detail of Interlock by Maren Hassinger, seen at BAM/PFA as part of the special exhibit Maren Hassinger: Living Moving Growing

@ Z Space: In a Memory Palace

Last night at Z Space I saw the first performance of In a Memory Palace, a resonant & mesmerizing new work. Done in the style of Noh Theater, it is the story of a middle-aged woman who visits her father in a senior residence only to encounter a strange & strangely familiar old woman, who reminds her of a childhood neighbor, a refugee from Hitler's Austria, a woman she was sure had died long before. Though this work has a very specific storyline, it is evocative of other journeys, both chosen & forced, both physical & mental; the evocation is not only on the stage, but in the lobby, which contains an installation exploring different aspects of exile & emigration. Moving away from some "native land" or from your family traditions is such a basic American story that it would be difficult to find, I think, someone who didn't connect with this material on some level, perhaps even a profound one.

(I give away some plot twists below, so take that into consideration when deciding whether to read on, though most of them are fairly easily guessed if you've seen any Noh plays.)

This work floats suspended in a liminal space: between Japanese & Western theatrical techniques & traditions; between the flute & percussion of Noh & the Western sounds of cello & piano evoking fin de siècle Vienna; between present & past; among the actual, the remembered, the supernatural, & the desired. The stage is bare; there are actually two stages, a broad main one, bright white, & then, on its left, a smaller one, the same bright white, that functions as the entry/exit ramp as in Noh Theater (but it also, in being slightly set apart & narrower than the main stage, though otherwise resembling it, reinforces the subtle disjunctions that are part of the mood & metaphors of the piece). At the back of the playing area are several very long overlapping translucent white curtains (sort of like shower curtains); onto these are projected monochrome designs, some of them ambiguous (waves? rocks? massed foliage? as well as stars or stylish Viennese designs). To the right, off from the main stage, sits a chorus of eight, who sometimes chant comments on the action.

As in Noh, the action is very deliberate, very considered. The dialogue is mostly chanted to musical accompaniment & is poetic in its repetitions & phrasings. At times I could not catch every line, which is just a reality of listening to material that is sung with musical accompaniment. I briefly wished that they had used surtitles, but decided that would have been too distracting, at least for a compulsive reader like me. As with comments written in the margin of a book, the printed words would pull you out of your own total experience of the material & impose concentration on only certain aspects of what's going on. The imperfection of our perception is actually a key theme of the work, the blurring of words & memories, the half-caught phrases & the passing glimpses of life. Surtitles would force on the work an almost counter-effective clarity. This is not to discount the power & beauty of the words, but just to suggest that's what most important here is not catching each individual line (most of which are clear enough, as is the storyline) but immersing yourself in the mood, one created by slowness, the intense presence of the characters, the spare but rich setting, the mystery of memory, & of the past, our own & the world's.

For it turns out there are several mysteries around the older woman. The woman who remembered her from childhood (she's wrapped in a shawl, sort of babushka style, printed with an abstract monochrome design but with a very bright red fringe; the performer sits to the side for most of the performance with an intense, riveting, attentive quiet) remembered her as saying she was a concert pianist. This elderly woman claims she was a well-known fashion designer to the Viennese haute monde. She was a Catholic married to a Jew; after the Anschluss, such women were "encouraged" to leave their husbands but she refused & they managed to emigrate but of course abandoning their homes & homeland threw their lives off-course & the glamor & excitement of her fashionable, sophisticated Viennese world vanished with that world.

Perhaps this is why the woman's spirit is haunting the earth, to make her story known, or just to revisit herself the life she should have had. Ghosts are a traditional presence in Noh. The character of the old woman is the only one in this play to be masked in the traditional style. But her costumes are Western: a series of strikingly sumptuous gowns in the style & colors (lots of Klimt-like swirls & gold) of the Vienna Secessionists. She ends the work with a solo dance, summoning both the traditions of Japanese theater & the vanished waltzes of Vienna.

The play is brief (about one hour & fifteen minutes) but intense & concentrated, the sort of thing that will flower out in your mind afterward. It is playing at Z Space through 1 August & then goes to San Antonio, Texas. The play has a dedicated website, which you can find here. I will say that the playbill was not entirely clear about who did what & if there was a cast list I couldn't find it. So here's what I found (much of this comes from J Magazine, which had an article about the show; there were copies available in the theater lobby): the script is by Edith Newton, based on elements from her life; the music by David Crandall & Kevin Salfen, costumes by Margaret Mitchell, masks by Kitazawa Hideta, direction by Jubilith Moore. The show was presented by Theatre Nohgaku with Kunoichi Productions & Theatre of Yugen. Kudos to all of them & to the actors & musicians on a magnificent evening.

Friday Photo 2026/31

 

detail of tile work at Francisco Middle School, San Francisco

Elektra Redux

The morning of the last performance of San Francisco Opera's Elektra, which was also the last performance of the season, I was lucky enough to receive a text from a friend offering me the additional ticket she had for the evening, as her expected guest had unexpectedly had to drop out. I say I was lucky, but it took a moment for the luck to sink in. I had been out late the night before, & I sleep poorly anyway, waking up feeling more tired than when I went to bed, & a sudden change of plan can throw me. I tend to respond quickly, & my first impulse was to decline, but wiser heads (well, mine) prevailed & I told myself to ponder this offer for at least 10 minutes before responding. It didn't even take that long. My brain adjusted & my fingers typed out the response that should have been immediate as well as obvious: yes, thank you!

This revival was something to see as often as possible, just as the original 2017 production was. Both times the powerhouse cast made the run a must-see (or rather, a must-hear). But there was another selling point: the production itself, by Keith Warner. Set in a museum display of Bronze Age Greece, it provided an evocative, rich, & exciting concept. Partly, as I said in my post on this year's revival (which is here), there's just a sense of gratitude that someone did something with this piece besides throwing the cast in vaguely Grecian tunics amid a few shattered columns. But there's more to it than that; I've seen other productions of this work that took some chances (I recall one with huge sides of raw slaughtered beef hanging up around the stage). And productions that do more than sketch in the basics are not always popular. There is definitely a large section of the opera audience that resists anything that indicates an "attitude" towards the work: updating, deconstructing, rethinking, whatever. I put "attitude" in quotation marks because of course there's always an attitude of some sort being displayed; staging is inherently interpretation.

Opera audiences are usually quick, too quick in my frequently expressed opinion, to sneer at any production that tries anything different. Yet this production, so provocative, so very much a "concept", not only seems to have escaped the usual jibes: it seems to be, as far as I can tell, that rare thing, a production that is actually beloved, even apart from the musical execution.

I think what a lot of people object to in most "concept" productions is the misalignment between what the production is imposing on the work & what people go to the opera for: many people attend to get swept up in grand emotions, transported to a different time & place, an alternate level of reality. Most "concept" productions drily deconstruct the usual operatic narratives & tropes, offering an intellectual review of the grand passions, an overlay of present-day preoccupations on the escapist fantasy many in the audience are hoping for. (Neither side is really right or wrong; the audience's assumptions about classic works can be as wrong-headed as an inappropriate interpretation.) In other words, the audience feels condescended to by the "concept": oh, you want sweeping romance? Cute! Here's a presentation that will dismiss what you want in favor of shoving the sour world as we see it back in your face.  It's intellect versus emotion. Perhaps that is why there is so much anger directed at productions of this type; fortunately the irritating dismissal of all such productions as "Eurotrash" seems to be going out of fashion, at least in my hearing, but the anger remains. These productions can be good, or bad; but usually a lot of the audience dismisses them automatically based on the concept, not on its execution.

What I'm guessing is that the Warner production manages to hit the sweet spot between offering a thoughtful critique of what is going on in the old myths / operas & how they resonate for contemporary audiences & sheer horror-film effectiveness. In other words, the production respects the material & the way its creators intended it to be presented, yet also offers us a fruitful alternative view of what's going on.

The thrills were undeniable. At this final performance, I was surprised when the killing of Klytemnestra, her severed head held aloft by her son & killer Orest, was met not only with audible gasps, as at most performances, but a fairly sizable round of applause. It seemed a bit bloodthirsty. (Maybe people didn't know her backstory? Her actions didn't come out of nowhere. Either way, it's a tribute to the intensity of the performances & the production.) A friend asked me later if there was a special energy to this, the final performance of the run & of the season, & maybe there was a bit of going-for-broke but as far as I could see, & as far as I heard, all the performances were pretty much all-out. One difference that signaled the end of the season: at the curtain call, one of the violinists (I assume she was retiring, or at least moving on) was called up on stage by conductor Eun Sun Kim to take a solo bow. She was showered with bouquets from the pit, which was lovely to see.

So Elektra provided a suitable capstone to a generally thrilling San Francisco Opera season. There's often a certain poignancy to wandering through the lobby for one last time as the attendees for the final performance trickle out (until we all start trickling back in for the next season, in a couple of months) but this time we were all on an Elektra rush. As we left the Opera House, the surrounding area was even more chaotic than usual, as Civic Center was already filling up with Pride Weekend partiers, & the train ride back to the East Bay was a Boschian hellscape. But it was still worth it to experience this Elektra one more time. I almost said one last time, but here's hoping this production, which I think we can call classic as well as beloved, comes around again before another ten years have passed.

Museum Monday 2026/30

 

detail of Sleeping Venus by Eustache Le Sueur, now at the Legion of Honor

Philharmonia Baroque: Handel's Tolomeo

One of the more exciting & unexpected developments in my now four decades plus of opera-going is the resurgence, not just in specialty festivals but in mainstream houses, of that expansive & rich body of work, once considered as extinct as the brontosaurus: baroque opera. Not surprisingly revival has come at an uneven rate, & while some works are well known, there are others, even by a giant like Handel, that are relatively obscure; such a one is Tolomeo, which Philharmonia Baroque revived this week. I saw the first performance, in Herbst Theater. Musically the piece was rich enough to satisfy any opera lover, especially with such a truly outstanding cast, but dramatically the semi-staged production by James Darrah Black was less satisfying.

PBO's new Music Director, Peter Whelan, led a lively & musically convincing performance, with a stellar cast of singers: countertenor Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen in the title role, soprano Lauren Snouffer as his beloved wife Seleuce, countertenor Kangmin Justin Kim as his younger brother Alessandro, bass-baritone Dashon Burton as Araspe, king of Cyprus, & soprano Nicole Heaston as Elisa, his sister. The first three, members of the Egyptian royal family, are in exile or hiding or shipwrecked on Cyprus, & therefore to some extent under the power of Araspe & his sister. Complications romantic, dynastic, & familial inevitably ensue. There's no point in spelling them out; baroque operas have notoriously convoluted plots, but the action is generally clear enough in performance, & I will continue to insist that the shifting & often disguised layers of love, longing, & loss portrayed are psychologically & dramatically truer to life than the grand passions of verismo. As is usual in baroque opera, the characters were called on to display a wide variety of emotions (though Araspe was mostly restricted to the anger produced by rebuffed royal love, which Burton delivered with magisterial fury) & the cast was on-point, each time & in all moods; vocally, it was a glorious evening of glowing splendors.

Dramatically things were less certain. Here's one of the points at which vocalization & characterization intersect: Elisa's love for the disguised Tolomeo was portrayed in a comically overdone, almost camp, way. This is a legitimate choice, & Heaston played it extremely well, but it's not the choice I would have preferred. Once you've established Elisa as a comic character, with basically silly emotions rooted in the whims of an entitled princess, then halfway through the opera when her love turns to vengeful anger, it's difficult at that point to start taking those emotions seriously – and if her threats don't carry a sense of real danger with them, then the dramatic tension is really defused.

Also, there's a tendency to see baroque opera as lots of lovely tunes wrapped around a hollow core, emptied of significance, which I think diminishes what these works can actually accomplish for present-day listeners who are open to them. The conventions are already to start with alien enough for many modern audiences; turning them into campy comedy scenes is, I think, something that should be done very sparingly.

I said above that the basic action of baroque opera, however convoluted in the plot synopsis, is clear in performance, but I need to modify that a bit, as on Thursday night the basic story-telling was often unclear, though I'm familiar enough with what is likely to be going on to make educated guesses. At one point, if the characters themselves weren't narrating what they were seeing & doing ("Why is my beloved, who ungratefully doesn't love me, going over to that shepherd? Why is she speaking to him, a mere lowly shepherd? I will slay him!"), we would have been completely lost. During one aria Tolomeo was in front of Seleuce, who was singing about him, but apparently he was meant to be only in her thoughts (the usually lively & sensitive Cohen was stiff & withdrawn at those moments, which is why I think we were meant to "read" him as present only in her mind).

The ending was very confusing: Elisa has given Tolomeo a poison. I guessed that it would be some sort of narcotic sleeping potion, as it's unlike baroque opera to kill off the hero like that: the eighteenth century liked its happy endings; or, to put it in a more appropriately philosophical way, they liked to have order restored to & on the restless world before sending the audience out into the seething night. I was right about the sleeping potion. But Elisa has also announced that she's seen Seleuce slaughtered in front of her – but then the very much alive Seleuce is led in. Elisa doesn't even look surprised. What's going on? Afterwards I read the plot synopsis & it turns out that Alessandro, who has decided to do the right thing & restore his elder brother to the throne of Egypt, has rescued her. I think the libretto itself was a bit slapdash there, but the staging didn't help things.

The costumes didn't help either. Everyone was in vaguely contemporary outfits, mostly in those sort of wheat-ash-pale pale olive green-beige-taupe shades. At first I thought they all looked like models in a Banana Republic catalogue. Then I noticed there were some differences: the brothers Tolomeo & Alessandro both wore stylish hiking boots (which I envied), while Araspe had very polished black dress shoes. His shirt was black, though his linen suit was pale ash-grey or off-white or some other evanescent shade, & his sister also wore black, though her outfit was also topped with a pale jacket. Seleuce wore a lovely pale (yellowish?) sundress & then partway through switched to a different lovely pale (greenish?) sundress; I don't know why she changed. Were Alessandro's earrings & painted nails part of the characterization, or just the personal style of the singer? (Or both?) And I don't know how some of these distinctions (like the footwear) would be seen if you weren't sitting in the front row, as I was, so I don't know quite what was going on there. I don't really need characters dressed like "shepherds" or "kings" but it's helpful to paint some of these differences in broader strokes & brighter colors, & it might be helpful if characters in disguise have some sort of rudimentary, even symbolic, disguise; otherwise you may well wonder why someone is looking directly at the beloved spouse he or she has been pining for in aria after aria yet does not recognize said beloved. There's suspending belief, & then there's asking for the impossible.

On either side of the stage there were what looked like parts of a wrecked plane, built out of wood, half-buried in sand. These weren't really used, & were meant to indicate that Tolomeo had crash-landed on Cyprus, or at least I think that's what they meant. Stretched along the front of the stage were fluorescent tubes on wooden blocks, which were moved into different shapes on occasion (& the bulbs changed colors sometimes). In the middle of the stage, behind the row of lights, there were some wooden boxes covered with some sort of foam insulation & tied down with ropes. These were eventually removed, & used to tie up a character, & inside the wooden boxes there were large mirrored cubes, which came out in the last half & were stared at by various characters for long periods.

This was an interesting idea, & multivalent enough to be intriguing: was the staring literally a reflection of their narcissism? In the director's note, which I read afterwards, there is a suggestion that even the reflection of a face can't convey everything that face signifies or that that person has gone through. There was a comic edge sometimes: the first person to stare into the mirrored cube was Elisa, & the action seemed in line with her self-indulgent vanity (I couldn't help thinking of Semele in her Handel opera, staring into a mirror & singing Myself I shall adore, if I persist in gazing). Afterwards an audience member who seemed delighted with the mirrored cubes referred to them as the characters' cellphones (because everyone kept staring into them obliviously), & you could follow that line of thought too, satirically &/or seriously. (But I should probably also note that the reflections off the mirrored cubes repeatedly hurt my eyes.)

There were some striking stage pictures, so much so that the man next to me took several surreptitious photos (he was actually not nearly as annoying as the couple behind me who frequently whispered & then emitted a round of high-pitched giggles). The staging was at its best when it worked on a symbolic, poetic, signifying level, which is where the striking stage pictures would come in; where it fell down was with the basic what is going on here stuff. I do know people who just don't even bother trying to follow the plot twists & emotional complexities, but just bask in the music, &, you know, sure, there are many mansions &c, but for these wonderful works to maintain their newfound theatrical vitality, at some level they need to make sense & be taken seriously. It sounds prosaic, even banal, even, oh horror, literalist & low-brow, to insist that the action should be clear, but it's especially important in a work as little-known as this one. If you mess around with Tosca, some people will have a fit (I am definitely not one of them), but a large part of the audience will know what you're playing around with. That's not the case with Tolomeo.

Having said all that, I have to go back to swimming in the musical glories of the evening. Even if I didn't love Handel & baroque opera as much as I do, just the chance to hear the vivid orchestral playing & the endlessly glorious unfurling singing would have been enough. I wonder if anyone made a surreptitious recording to go with my neighbor's photos?

Friday Photo 2026/30

 

Palace of Fine Arts, San Francisco

Museum Monday 2026/29

 

detail of A Crowned Virgin Martyr (Saint Catherine of Alexandria?) by Bernardo Daddi, now at the Legion of Honor

Another Opening, Another Show: August 2026

Like July, August is a relatively quiet month for performances; presumably in the summer months the center of things shifts out to vineyards & seasides & other bucolic & calming locales, beyond the purview of my little preview here. There are actually a number of late July events folded in here, as I found out about them after I posted the July preview. Apparently even after I pointed out the hazards of late posting, reformation did not immediately follow! I know – I'm frankly as shocked as you are. I do actually have a lot of sympathy for people who are struggling to keep up; on top of everything else that goes into planning an event, there's updating the website. But I wonder if there isn't some deliberate idea here as well, some notion that "spontaneity" & "last-minute plans" are the way to do business, even show business. I know this sort of thing is supposed to be the way we all live, or want to live, but I am skeptical. I think this is one of those modes people feel they should operate in – the last-minute adventure, the crazy but why not escapade, the inspired gamble that leads to the perfect evening & eventually the charming anecdote & the glowing memory. People like to think they are guided by whim & the golden light of infinite possibility, but in reality, there's just too much of, well, reality pushing in on us, & even someone as relatively unencumbered as I am (I don't even have a pet, & am not much in demand socially) is going to need to plan ahead.

Years ago some group announced days in advance the time & place at which they would be doing some sort of "pop-up" & a friend of mine pointed out that if they were announcing time & place days ahead of time, it isn't really a pop-up. Of course it isn't, because real pop-ups are a pain in the ass, & likely to fail. Best to sell the illusion of spontaneity without the inconvenience of the actual thing. Back when I worked in the Financial District, there used to be a number of food trucks that would show up at the same place on certain days, so that you knew if it was Tuesday you could go get Japanese curry, or Wednesday & you could go get pizza. One day a truck with delicious South American food appeared & some of us in line asked if they were now going to be regulars. We were told that no, we had to start following them on Instagram (relatively new at the time) & they'd be announcing when & where they would appear. I guess we were supposed to follow them through the city, regardless of jobs & the limitations of public transit & of corporate lunch hours. The woman ahead of me was outraged. She turned to me angrily & said, "What?!? I don't have time for that! Do I look like I have time for that?!?" & honestly she kind of did, but I knew my cue & said, "No, of course not! You're way too busy!" "That's right!" she said. I never saw the truck again. Not sure what they ended up doing, but my line-mate & I just ended up getting lunch at other places.

So, yeah, get your information out there as soon as you feasibly can. People need to plan ahead! Time & attention are precious, & stretched thin. Sometimes, of course, even with full information, things aren't going to work out. There are a couple of things that can easily deflate my balloon of excitement: one is a start time of 8:00 or, God forbid, even later. At this point, it seems weirdly antiquated to me, as in, Why are you still doing that? It's like finding out that they have a formalwear dress code. Didn't that era pass? The other thing that takes the wind out of my sails (to switch my airy metaphor) is open seating. There was a play recently that I was excited about attending – until I realized it was open seating. Milling around the lobby, jockeying for position near the door, resentful of those who arrived later & cut ahead . . . .it's annoying, & already in the past couple of weeks I'd had two or three performances that required such shenanigans, & so I passed on the play. It wouldn't be so bad if the doors were open early & you could go in right away & claim your seat, but often you have to stand & stand & stand & mill around & finally the doors open, usually after they were scheduled to, & just before the performance starts, & there's the usual scrum at the door & the unseemly rush to get desired seats. . . .  Seriously, we have the systems in place. Announce early! Let people get their seats in advance! Remember that we all have a lot going on, & things should be made easy for the ticket-buyer.

OK, more than enough from me. As I said, this is, as is traditional, a fairly slow month, but there are still lots of things going on, particularly with West Edge Opera & the International Piano Festival. Enjoy!

Theatrical

From 30 July to 1 August on Z Space's Steindler Stage, Theatre Nohgaku with Kunoichi Productions & Theatre of Yugen present In a Memory Palace, written by Edith Windsor Newton & directed by Jubilith Moore, a Noh-influenced dance/theater/video piece about "a once‑celebrated Viennese couturier".

From 31 July to 9 August at La Val's Subterranean Theatre, the Actors Ensemble of Berkeley presents Repossessed by Greg Lam, directed by Gabriel A Ross, about a couple that has used advanced technology to implant "skills, knowledge, and memories into their brains" while also choosing to forget they had this procedure, & what happens to them when they can't keep up their payments & their skills, knowledge, & memories are withdrawn.

Playground presents the 5th Annual Free-Play Festival from 31 July to 23 August at the Potrero Stage; click here to see the line-up.

From 31 July to 29 August at the Barbary Stage on Jackson Street in San Francisco, Ray of Light Theater presents Urinetown: The Musical, by Mark Hollman & Greg Kotis, directed & choreographed by Isaiah Tyrelle Boyd, a truly wonderful show & a sadly very relevant comedy about permanent water shortages.

From 6 August to 5 September at the Creativity Theater, San Francisco Playhouse presents R.O.I. (Return on Investment) by Aaron Loeb, directed by Jonathan Moscone, about a young venture capitalist in Silicon Valley.

From 7 to 16 August at the Strand, ACT's Young Conservatory presents a musical adaptation of Twelfth Night, conceived by Kwame Kwei-Armah & Shaina Taub, with music & lyrics by Shaina Taub, directed by Dee Dee Stephens, with choreography by Meredith Joelle Charlson & musical direction by Amanda Dee.

From 7 to 23 August, the Oakland Theater Project will perform Orpheus Descending by Tennessee Williams, directed by Will Detlefsen.

From 12 - 16 August (in San Francisco) & 19 - 23 & 27 - 30 August (in Berkeley), The Marsh presents In Front of Your Eyes 2026: A Festival of New Performance, featuring shows in development by women & nonbinary writers / performers; click here for the full schedule.

Actors Ensemble of Berkeley will give free performances of A Midsummer Night's Dream at the John Hinkel Park Amphitheater, directed by Michael R Cohen assisted by Ben Prusiner, beginning 22 August & running through 7 September.

On 24 - 26 August at the Ashby Stage, as part of Shotgun Players' Champagne Staged Reading Series, you can experience Miss Thang! (originally titled The House of Jules) by Terry Guest, conceived & directed by Aejay Antonis Marquis, an adaptation of Strindberg's Miss Julie set in a "Black New Orleans bounce and hip hop club owned by a wealthy Creole patriarch".

Operatic

The annual West Edge Opera Festival takes place this month at the Oakland Scottish Rite Center on Lake Merritt; this year's operas are:

The Turn of the Screw, Benjamin Britten's setting of the libretto by Myfanwy Piper, based on the story by Henry James; Mark Streshinsky directs, Jonathan Khuner conducts, with Laura Bohn as the Governess, Alex Boyer as Peter Quint, Erin Neff as Mrs Grose, Alexa Sessler as Miss Jessel, James Coniglio & Noah Hajduk as Miles, Siena Coniglio as Flora, & Roya Agarwal as Flora, & that's 1, 9, & 15 August;

Rinaldo by Handel, to a libretto by Giacomo Rossi based (loosely) on Tasso's Gerusalemme liberata; Keturah Stickann directs, Emily Senturia conducts, with Kyle Tingzon in the title role, Shawnette Sulker as Almirena, Nikki Einfeld as Armida, Sara Couden as Goffredo, Efraín Solís as Argante, & Gabi Esquinazi as a Siren/Magician, & that's 2, 8, & 15 August; 

American Apollo, a new work with music by Damien Geter & a libretto by Lila Palmer based on the relationship between John Singer Sargent & Thomas Eugene McKeller, a Black hotel worker who modeled for the painter; Nataki Garrett directs, Kedrick Armstrong conducts, with Markel Reed as Thomas McKeller, John Bellemer as John Singer Sargent, Marnie Breckenridge as Isabella Stewart Gardner, Alexandra Armantrading as Ida Mae McDonald, Matt Hidalgo as Nicola D’Inverno / Mr Sparhawk, Leberta Lorál as Florence McKeller / Mrs Smithson, Philip Harris as Willie McDonald, Wilford Kelly as Clarence / Emcee, Michael Belle as George, & Alex Taite as a Walter, & that's 8, 13, & 16 August.

portrait of Thomas McKeller by John Singer Sargent, from the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

And on 23 August at SFMOMA's Wattis Theater, West Edge Opera is performing an orchestral preview of Claude & Marcel, a work scheduled for its world premiere by West Edge next year, with music by Alyssa Weinberg & a libretto by Stephanie Fleischmann, conducted by Jonathan Khuner & directed by Elkhanah Pulitzer, based on the lives of "Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore: two women – romantic and artistic partners - Jewish activists and surrealist photographers who used their art to magnify resistance against Nazi Germany".

On 15 August in the Opera House, the Merola Program presents its annual Grand Finale, conducted by William Long & directed by Claire Choquette.

Choral

On 26 July in the Kanbar Performing Arts Center in San Francisco, you can attend the first concert by Staff & Ledger, a "new professional vocal ensemble . . . founded by artists from Chanticleer, Volti, Clerestory, Byrd Ensemble, Aeternum, Fog City Singers, American Bach Soloists, and the San Francisco Symphony Chorus"; under director Kory Reid, this concert will feature five world premieres by Eric Choate, Jeffrey Parola, & Eric Tuan.

On 15 August in Davies Hall, Robert Geary leads the San Francisco Choral Society in Orff's Carmina Burana as well as Three Portraits: Voices of Chinese American Women from Early California by Eric Tuan, a new work commissioned by the Choral Society; Carmina Burana will be semi-staged, by Rotimi Agbabiaka, with vocal soloists Chelsea Hollow (soprano), Sam Faustine (tenor), & Eugene Brancoveanu (baritone).

On 29 August in the Cathedral of Christ the Light in Oakland, the Bartolucci Foundation, which is dedicated "to preserving the legacy of Cardinal Domenico Bartolucci, longtime director of the Sistine Chapel Choir" will present Sacred Voices, featuring singers from Roman & Vatican choirs in Gregorian chant & "Roman polyphony", along with works by Bartolucci himself.

Vocalists

On 12 August at the Golden Gate Theater, you can spend An Intimate Evening With Michael Feinstein.

On 27 August at ACT's Strand Theater, Opera Parallèle & the Transgender District present the 5th annual Expansive, "a showcase of trans and nonbinary classical artists. This year’s theme, REVOLUTION IS JUST THE BEGINNING, is in honor of the 60th anniversary of the Compton’s Cafeteria Riots—a pivotal moment in transgender history that helped shape San Francisco and movements for liberation around the world. Featuring Sapphira Cristál, Katherine Goforth and Nina Jones, with host Afrika America and pianist Keisuke Nakagoshi".

Orchestral

On 23 August in Herbst Theater, Arun Saigal leads the SF Civic Music Association Summer Workshop orchestra in America 250, a program including Summon the Heroes by John Williams, Appalachian Spring by Copland, Yggdrasil, Violin Concerto by Mads Tolling (with Tolling as soloist), selections from West Side Story by Bernstein (arranged by Jack Mason), Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue (with piano soloist Oskar Yao), Through the Honmoon: A KPop Demon Hunters Medley by Andi Zhou: the concert is free but RSVPs are recommended.

Chamber Music

On 11 August in Old Saint Mary's, Noontime Concerts presents Musicians of Old Saint Mary’s Cathedral and Chinese Mission (soprano Kelsey Debner, mezzo-soprano Melissa Wong-Renati, tenor Kevin Dusek, baritone Nicolas A Garcia, trumpeter Chris Grady, & pianists Russell Ryan & Sylvia O’Neill) in a program celebrating the 200th anniversary of the death of Carl Maria von Weber & the 150th birthday of Manuel De Falla (specific celebratory pieces have not yet been announced).

Instrumental

The 9th Annual San Francisco International Piano Festival, led by Artistic Director Jeffrey LaDeur, runs from 20 to 30 August; click here for a list of concerts & locations.

On 25 July at the First Church of Christ, Scientist in Berkeley (the Maybeck Church), the Handel Opera Project presents violinist Michael Jones, with pianist Arkadi Serper, performing Kreisler's Praeludium & Allegro “in the style of Pugnani”, Mozart's Sonata in B-flat Major, K 378, Beethoven's Sonata in G Major, opus 30, #3, & Ravel's Pièce en forme de habanera.?

Early / Baroque Music

Jeffrey Thomas leads the American Bach Soloists in the San Francisco Bach Festival from 5 to 9 August at the Conservatory of Music; check here for details on the five programs.

Philharmonia Baroque continues its morning Coffee Concerts in the Conservatory at One Sansome (right off Market Street) on 21 August with Versailles Salon: Court Music from Baroque France, featuring members of PBO performing works by Couperin (the Sonade & the Dance Suite from “La Françoise” from Les Nations & the Concert Royaux #1); this series is free & open to the public.

See also Handel's Rinaldo at West Edge Opera, listed above under Operatic.

Modernist / Contemporary Music

See American Apollo & the orchestral preview for Claude & Marcel, both from West Edge Opera, listed above under Operatic.

Jazz, Gospel

Monsieur Periné brings their Latin jazz to the SF Jazz Center from 30 July to 2 August.

From 13 to 16 August, gospel group Take Six performs at the SF Jazz Center.

On 29 August at the Paramount, the SF Jazz Center presents pianist Brad Mehldau performing from his recent album Ride Into the Sun, an "orchestral love letter to the late singer, songwriter and guitarist Elliott Smith"; Mehldau will be joined by vocalist / mandolin player Chris Thile, drummer Matt Chamberlain, vocalist & guitarist John Davis, & vocalist Blake Mills, & the USC Thornton Chamber Virtuosi orchestra, led by Dan Coleman.

Dance

From 30 July to 2 August, ODC/Dance presents a Summer Sampler, featuring a revival of KT Nelson’s Nothing's Gonna Make Sense (Reflections on Grief), a world premiere by Mia J Chong, & a world premiere by Guest Choreographer Catherine Galasso: Unreliable Narrator, "drawn from the lives and artistry of ODC’s founding women, Brenda Way, Kimi Okada and KT Nelson".

FACT/SF presents their 2026 Summer Dance Festival on 14 - 16 August at the ODC Theater; now in its seventh year, the Festival this year gives us six contemporary dances by Karla Quintero, Ishami Dance Company, & FACT/SF, alongside visiting artists Megan O’Brien, Sarah McCullough & Shannon Hummel, & Sonam Tshedzom Tingkhye.

Mostly Museums

At SFMOMA, O. Smith: Artivist, opens on 25 July; a current prisoner in San Quentin, Smith uses his drawings to expose & critique power abuses by the government & the legal system; on 22 August, Jacob Hashimoto: Giant Arc will open, featuring the largest installation of Hashimoto's career so far, using thousands of hand-built kites.

Miró: Proof Against All, a display of À toute épreuve (Proof Against All, 1958), an art-book collaboration between Joan Miró & poet Paul Éluard. will open at the Legion of Honor on 25 July.

Treasures of the Pharaohs opens at the de Young on 1 August & runs through 31 January 2027; the exhibit includes "the US debut of objects from the Golden City, a newly unearthed workers’ community near Luxor. The suddenly abandoned city is a moment frozen in time, much like Pompeii".

Some Particular Heaven: Ideas of Utopia in the BAMPFA Collection opens on 5 August at BAM/PFA.

Lotty Rosenfeld: Disobedient Spaces, the first USA retrospective of the Chilean artist, opens at BAM/PFA on 12 August.

A Gallery of Their Own: Women Artists from the Carr and Goldblum Gift, featuring photographs, prints, & drawings by women, including works by Louise Bourgeois, Lee Krasner, & Yayoi Kusama, opens at the de Young on 15 August.

Superficial Matters: Artists from the Svane Gift and Beyond, the "third in a series highlighting contemporary artists with close ties to the Bay Area", opens at the de Young on 15 August.

Cinematic

Here are some of the special screenings at the Orinda Theater this month: on 1 August, as part of the Disney Restoration Series, you can see Charlton Heston in Planet of the Apes (please note the restorations are of movies Disney currently owns, not necessarily just "Disney" movies); on 8 August as part of the Cult Movie Night series, you can see Toshiro Mifune in Kurosawa's Yojimbo; on 9 August, as part of the Widescreen Roadshow series, you can see Dr Zhivago; & on 25 August, as part of the Classic Movie Matinee series, you can see Billy Wilder's Sabrina, with Humphrey Bogart, William Holden, & Audrey Hepburn.

Here are the film series launching this month at BAM/PFA: Made in Berkeley: The House That Zaentz Built, looking at the legacy of Saul Zaentz's Fantasy Studios, runs 1 - 30 August, & Nathaniel Dorsky & Jerome Hiler: Film Offerings, with the filmmakers in person, will run from 14 to 29 August.

On 3 August at the Roxie, you can see Design for Living, the Ben Hecht / Ernst Lubitsch pre-code version of Noel Coward's play; the film's throuple is Miriam Hopkins, Fredric March, &, rather unexpectedly, Gary Cooper; the movie will be introduced by Kim Luperi, co-author of Pre-Code Essentials: Must-See Cinema from Hollywood’s Untamed Era, 1930-1934, & there will be a book signing after the movie (books will be available for purchase).

 

CatVideoFest 2026 will play at the Roxie on 8 August; these showings tend to sell out, so pounce on tickets if you're interested.

On 8 August at the Presidio Theater, there will be a screening of After the Thin Man (1936, starring William Powell, Myrna Loy, & Jimmy Stewart), followed by a conversation with Julie Rivett, the granddaughter of Dashiell Hammett, who has worked extensively on her grandfather's life & works.

On 16 August at the Curran Theater, there will be a 40th anniversary screening of Little Shop of Horrors hosted by the original Audrey, Ellen Greene.

On 26 August at the Grand Lake Theater in Oakland, the Grand Feature Film Orchestra will provide live accompaniment to Harold Lloyd's Safety Last (this is the one with the iconic scene of Lloyd dangling from the clock tower, & fair warning, if you have a fear of heights think twice about watching this film); a Looney Tunes cartoon & Chaplin's The Rink are also on the bill.

Friday Photo 2026/29

 

Palace of Fine Arts, San Francisco